Date: Fri, 8 Jul 2005 09:49:13 -0600 (GMT-06:00)
From: Carl Tobie <thelos37@earthlink.net>
Subject: twin-black-boys

It was modern times, 1859, and I was in my mid twenties living the good
life in New Orleans on an ample allowance. My grandpappy and pappy had
grown very wealthy off our family's eight hundred acre plantation, which
was blessed with rich delta soil, as well as a thriving side business of
selling slaves that we raised in our breeding compound. While an old black
man, Rastus, supervised planting and harvesting the crops, a white man (who
even when I was a little boy knew was extremely mean), Hodding Fenton,
supervised breeding, raising and selling the slaves. He was so corrupt that
he used to take money from white trash boys who wanted the privilege (and
enjoyment) of covering young black wenches in the breeding cabins.

Though I spend most of my time in the city now, in my mansion in the Flower
District, I fondly remember my privileged childhood at Sapling Bayou. With
two older sisters, I was the only boy, and named after my pappy, Beauregard
Saunders, Jr. Everyone calls me Beau. My mother was a typical, delicate
southern belle, pampered by her personal maid, hairdresser, seamstress,
cook, and a lady companion. I hardly ever saw her. So I was mainly raised
by my black nanny, Jocelyn.  She started as my wet nurse and then inherited
the job of nanny when my old nanny, Rosabelle, passed on. My sisters had a
higher class, mulatto, French speaking nanny, named Clarisse, who as they
got older became less of a nanny and more of a lady-in-waiting and
chaperone.

From about the age of six I was regularly provided with a live-in black boy
about my age to play with, keep me company and generally do my bidding as a
body servant. The "play" boys knew that they must be completely subservient
because I could have them sold down the river to another plantation if they
did not do what I told them. My first play boy was name Joshua. We had
great times roaming the plantation, hanging around the cook house, riding
my two ponies, and rowing my little dinghy on the creek and its bayou
tributaries (Josh did most of the rowing).  At first he slept at the foot
of my bed on a pallet, but after a few weeks I told him to take his clothes
off and get in bed with me. I wasn't sexually developed yet, but holding
him and rubbing up against his smooth black skin was very pleasant. He knew
that when dawn broke he had to slip back to his pallet, before the maid
brought in my early morning beignets and creamy, sweetened coffee. If
Joshua was in my good graces I would let him slip back into my bed and
share the pastry and coffee with him after the maid had left. Josh was my
companion for two years until he took sick and died from swamp fever. I was
inconsolable for weeks after.

So, I was eight when nanny Jocelyn told me Mr. Fenton had acquired a fancy
light skinned boy my age from a private owner in the city. The boy was
named Halfshell, because one of his balls was missing. He became my new
play boy and we hit it off right away. He told me about all kinds of kinky
things he had witnessed and participated in as the fancy boy servant to a
very rich New Orleans man who only kept company with men and boys, not
women. Shell was called a fancy boy because it was his master's custom to
dress him in flamboyant, colorful silk costumes when he was acting as a
footman/waiter at one of the depraved soirees, or was being a decorative
helper to the two coachmen that drove Mr. Fonsagreve's formal carriage
drawn by four white horses. Shell lost his position when a jealous rival
falsely accused him of stealing some bauble or other.

It was Shell who introduced me to the pleasures of having one's penis
sucked and manipulated.  After he brought me to my first, pre-pubescent dry
orgasm I was so overwhelmed that I told him he no longer had to leave my
bed at dawn before the maid came in. Over the next three years we had many
pleasant adventures together, becoming more muscular and each gaining about
four inches in height. When we were both eleven, Shell started sprouting
kinky hair under his arms and around his privates. I was disappointed that
my manly hair wasn't growing in yet.

One day I couldn't find him and went searching for him in some of our
favorite hiding places.  Approaching a weeping willow that was surrounded
by a thicket of saplings, I heard some noises.  I parted the greenery with
my hands and peered through to the area we had long ago cleared out.  I saw
Shell, on his knees, fellating one of the white horse trainers. I was
amazed when the man stopped him, had him remove his burlap shirt,
one-button trousers and undergarments, and raise his arms to lean against
the tree trunk. He took what looked like a bottle of hair tonic out of his
side pocket and poured some down the crack of Shell's ass and onto his own
dick. When he pushed the head of his dick against the boy's butt-hole I
thought I faintly heard, "Yes, Massa!  Push it in me. Have your way with
me." Upon witnessing the horse trainer shove his dick up Shelly's backside,
I turned on my heel and went to find Mr. Fenton, jealous tears streaming
down my face. I found Mr. Fenton outside the breeding compound, talking to
a piece of pimply white trash.

When he saw my distress he asked, "What's wrong, Master Beau?" I told him
that Halfshell had displeased me mightily and I wanted him sold down the
river at once.

"Yes, Master Beau, I'll set that in motion right away," said Fenton,
heading for the big house.

Before I could follow him, the piece of white trash had the nerve to ask me
if I, being the privileged son and heir, had 'covered any wenches' in the
slave quarter.

"Good God, no! I have no use for womankind," I said, and headed back to the
mansion and my now lonely room.

By the time I was twelve, I had sprouted manly hair in my armpits, and,
more importantly, around my dick. Mr. Fenton got me a lovely 12-year-old
brown-skinned boy to be my play boy. His name was Josephus, I called him
Jo. This boy was magnificent. He was built like a brick shit house and,
much to my pleasure and enjoyment, he was always horny. Being versatile, he
not only sucked me, he introduced me to anal sex, both top and bottom. God,
how I loved it! When the maid came in with my coffee and beignets just
after dawn she would often catch us humping each other under the covers. Jo
had a pretty face, beautiful almond-shaped eyes, furry armpits and a
wonderful shag of curly, kinky pubic hair. The hair up his ass drove me
wild, too. Jo enjoyed most of the things my previous play boys had liked,
but he especially favored two things, riding in the coach and four and
floating around the bayou in my little rowboat. We found a number of
preferred trysting spots in the bayou under the trees laden with Spanish
moss. We would tie the dinghy up at our favorite places and make love for
hours. Jo was my lover for the next five years. Really, he was the love of
my life until I was college age and went off for four years to the
University of Virginia. I never learned how Fenton disposed of Josephus.

As a rich boy at university I had my pick of sex partners. I tried doing
the nasty a few times with my white fellow students, but it wasn't the
same. Once you've had black meat you never go back to white. A procurer
provided me with black boys whenever I felt the need for one. I learned a
lot at university. The summer after my junior year I sailed to England and
familiarized myself with London. World travel is fascinating, yes, but what
I really looked forward to was getting situated in New Orleans and living a
life similar to that of Shell's Mr. Fonsagreves.

A year later I had my university degree and returned to Louisiana. After
throwing a lavish welcome home party for me at Sapling Bayou, my pappy
agreed to buy me a house in New Orleans, and there I was -- a rich
twenty-two year old man-about-town in one of the most fascinating and
cosmopolitan cities in the world. Through Mr. Fenton, now getting on in
years, I found the ideal majordomo to run my mansion in the Flower
District. Renfrew was a light-skinned man in his mid- thirties from
Lafourche Parish. He had been rendered a eunuch when his evil master had
him castrated after finding out that his oldest daughter was having a
sexual affair with him on the plantation. Little did the man know that his
daughter had demanded sexual favors of Renfrew only after discovering her
younger brother being screwed by him.

It took Renfrew only about three weeks to staff my new home, Chez Beau, and
have it running smoothly. Ren, as majordomo, of course doubled as my
butler. With my approval he hired a cook, a coachman/groundskeeper, a white
stable boy and a black cleaning girl who came in five days a week. A couple
of weeks after that I received a letter from Mr. Fenton saying he was
trying to place two dark twelve-year-old twins named Brent and
Brett. Superstitious darkies thought that identical twins were bad luck. I
replied immediately to Fenton saying that I would be glad to have the
services of the two black boys in my new house. The twins arrived three
days later and I placed them under the supervision and tutelage of my man,
Renfrew.  When first presented to me, they were somewhat timid and
frightened, but within a couple of days the two gorgeous, sexy twins were
completely at ease. I had Ren take them to my tailor in town who made them
four matching outfits in as many colors.

In addition to their duties as house boys, I knew they would soon learn how
to satisfy all my sexual needs, because Ren would teach them to be ideal
catamites. He told me later how he broke them in, teaching them the
techniques of pleasing a man in every way. Ren instructed them in bodily
hygiene, personally taught them the sensuous art of kissing and introduced
them to the joys of being fellated to climax. They readily took to his
suggestion that they make love to one other. They were soon sucking and
fucking each other with abandon in their third-floor bedroom. The lubricant
of choice was lard, which they obtained from my Creole cook, Michelle. I
didn't have to worry about the eunuch screwing my boys, and I didn't mind
if he gave them a little head from time to time.

Their bedroom and mine on the floor below were connected by a secret spiral
staircase hidden behind moveable bookcases in each room. Most Monday,
Wednesday and Friday evenings Renfrew would see to it that they bathed and
douched after supper and then he would give them each a lit candle and send
them naked down the secret staircase to my room. The only way I could tell
the darling boys apart was from the small mole on Brent's left buttock. If
I was sitting reading by the light of the kerosene lamp in my lounge chair
they would set their candles down and run grinning to me, softly calling,
"Massa Beau! Massa Beau!" Then they usually pulled my dressing gown open
and vied for the privilege of sitting in my lap. I often defused this
rivalry by having Brent and Brett sit one on each of my knees facing
me. After hugging them close and kissing each boy on the lips I liked them
to pleasure me by kissing and sucking on my nipples.  There was one nipple
for each, which worked out quite well. On the other hand I had only one sex
organ which they had to take turns sucking on, or, one would drop to his
knees and fellate me while the other stood with his feet planted on either
side of my thighs on the seat cushion and push his dick into my mouth.

The permutations of sex positions were endless. If they found me in bed
they would slip under the covers, cuddle up and start their hands roaming
over my naked body. Often one would go under the covers to give me head
while I traded passionate kisses with the other. Sometimes they would give
me a live sex show, screwing each other on top of the covers as I
watched. I almost always enjoyed sloppy seconds, humping their beautiful
butts after they had lubed and warmed each other up. I discovered that
Brett (the one without the birthmark) had such a sensitive prostate that he
could climax and ejaculate merely from being screwed by my dick. I'm afraid
it may have given me a little too much pride in my prowess as a
swordsman. It was especially exciting when Brett sat facing me on the
chair, his rectum impaled by my engorged member, my hands under his globes
controlling his ups and downs until, otherwise untouched, he would throw
his head back with a cry and spew his boy seed from his dick onto my chest
and belly.

It was only on the rare occasions that I had one of the twins alone in my
bed that I would let one or the other screw me in the backside. That way
each thought it was a special treat that "Massa Beau" had granted only to
them. Actually, it was a special treat for me. If we were on top of the
covers I would hold up a hand mirror so that I could see as well as feel
the boy jumping up and down in my ass. The lustful expressions crossing his
face as he plowed his "Massa" were often priceless.